


Burnout

by LtLJ



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-18
Updated: 2006-07-18
Packaged: 2017-10-03 09:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtLJ/pseuds/LtLJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Rodney wanted to express his frustration with life by ripping Hermiod's oversized head off, John really didn't care at the moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burnout

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers to Stargate Atlantis Season 3, episode No Man's Land.

It was, oddly, Hermiod who called John on the radio to tell him that Rodney was freaking out. "Dr. McKay has been taken ill," it said in John's headset.

John winced. Even without Wraith, everything on the hive ship was creepy and as far as John was concerned, Hermiod fit right in. In the background he could hear Rodney yelling at someone; it sounded like the normal "everybody is stupid but me" working rant, but it was tinged with a bitter exhaustion. Hermiod continued, "The others believe you are the only one capable of dealing with him."

"Of course they do," John replied, and cut the connection. He really wasn't in the mood. They had gotten the prisoners settled, dumped the dead ex-Wraith, the _Daedalus'_ wounded were being tended, and they had gotten the hive ship pointed to where they needed to go. He couldn't remember how long he had been awake, his back and his right shoulder were still sore from the blast impact in the F-302 and being ungently wrestled out of the cockpit by the Wraith, and he was supposed to be off duty now and he just wanted twenty minutes to collapse somewhere. If Rodney wanted to express his frustration with life by ripping Hermiod's oversized head off, John really didn't care at the moment.

He started up toward the bridge area, through the dark cold corridors hung with webbing and other things too disgusting to look at closely, and found the big control chamber. Rodney was sitting on the foot of the dais, bent forward with his head in his hands. Lorne was standing over him, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder, saying, "Just take deep breaths." He looked up at John in relief. "Colonel, he's a little--"

"I'm fine," Rodney said, faintly. He didn't sound fine. Or look fine. "The guidance system is very delicate and requires precise, absolutely precise adjustments, and I had to sit down suddenly. You people--"

"Rodney, you're supposed to be off duty now," John said, brow furrowed. Okay, so Hermiod was right, and John needed to deal with this. But if Rodney had ever had reason for a PTSD freak out -- and John figured he had had quite a few reasons -- it was now. Being stuck in a cocoon in the wall of a hive ship was nightmare enough; the worst nightmare anybody on Atlantis, anybody in Pegasus, could have. Then add in the hours spent trying to escape, then trying to repair the _Daedalus_ while the air supply failed, then coming back to the hive ship. Yeah, Rodney was due a freak out. He took Rodney's arm and hauled him to his feet. "Come on. We'll go find a place where you can lie down."

Rodney shook his head and waved a hand, gesturing back toward the control area. "I can't go off duty, I have a million things to do--"

"Rodney, go with the Colonel," Zelenka said. He was up on the dais with Novak and Hermiod, a tablet tucked under his arm as he studied the weirdly organic control boards. Novak was torn between keeping an eye on her section of the consoles and watching Rodney with anxious concern. Hermiod was using Novak as a human shield, warily watching Rodney. "You have been awake for days and we can make the very precise adjustments without you for a few hours."

"The medic gave him something to calm him down, but it's not working," Lorne put in.

"Of course it's working!" Rodney tapped his head erratically, his glare focused a couple of feet over from where Lorne was actually standing. "That's why I'm having so much trouble thinking! And just when did the little cattle-mutilating circus freak become an expert on hive ships? I practically rebuilt this piece of extruded hell from the ground up--" He made a lunge for Hermiod.

"Rodney!" John held on to his arm. It wasn't hard. Rodney was obviously so tranqued up and exhausted that Hermiod could probably have kicked his ass at the moment. "That's enough."

"But-- I-- What--" Rodney subsided abruptly. "Okay."

John towed Rodney out of the bridge and down a level to the cleared rooms where people were bedding down, or trying to. Nobody looked particularly happy with their quarters. John picked up a supply pack along the way and found an empty room. He checked in with Lorne one last time to let him know their location, then herded Rodney inside.

"Great. Wraith personal quarters." John could have gone his whole life without seeing this and been happy. He dropped the pack on the floor, trying not to look too closely at anything, and hit the spongy control to shut the door. It had a greasy sticky texture, and he wiped his hand on his jacket, grimacing. Everything on this ship made him want to throw up.

While Rodney wandered vaguely around the room, John crouched down to open the pack. There were a couple of rolled up sleeping bags, some MREs and two water bottles. "Hey, you hungry?"

"No, no, I had something on the _Daedalus_ while we were dying from CO2 poisoning. I feel a little sick now." Rodney wandered to a halt, watching John shed his tac vest and jacket. John poked through the pack, trying to decide if he wanted to eat something or just sleep. Then Rodney said, "Can I have comfort sex?"

"Uh." John stared up at him. "What?"

"Comfort sex?" Rodney made a weird little gesture. "You and me? Oh, come on!" He flung his arms in the air. "The universe owes me a little something here!"

"Rodney..." John stood up. It was a bad idea. Setting aside the fact that Rodney was sick, close to passing out, and a little high, John felt like hell warmed over. And mainly, they were in a _hive ship_ that still stunk of Wraith and of decomposing human bodies. Even if it had been a good idea, John didn't think he could have done it. "I don't think--"

Rodney waved his hands. "Look, I know I had the whole freak-out over the Ascended sex thing, and that you have suggested that I'm stalking you, which is completely unfair, not that I thought you were serious, well not completely serious, not in the sense of filing sexual harassment charges serious, but I feel our relationship has grown since then, and--" He made a helpless gesture, looking bewildered. "What was my point, again?"

Yeah, he was really gone. John wasn't sure what to do here. It seemed cruel to just say no; Rodney seemed to need something. "Rodney, maybe I--" _Hive ship,_ he thought again. John found himself staring at the pod-like...thing that seemed to be the bed. _No, no, we can't._ "Uh--"

Rodney followed his gaze, and grimaced. "No, God, no, not on that. I don't even want to think about--" His voice broke a little. "I don't want to imagine...you, on one of those--"

"Hey, hey--" John stepped across to him and caught his arm, pulling him in. He cupped his face and kissed him. Rodney gasped into his mouth and wrapped his arms around him, hard enough to make John's ribs creak. Rodney's skin felt cold, almost shocky, and he tasted like the stale coffee they had been handing out on the _Daedalus_ to try to keep the repair crew conscious. John broke the kiss and pulled back enough to say, "Listen to me. You're okay, Ronon's okay, I'm okay. Zelenka and Lorne are okay. Teyla and Elizabeth and Carson are back home, where everybody's okay."

"There were a lot of casualties on the _Daedalus_." Rodney buried his face in John's neck, sounding sick and incredibly weary.

"Yeah, but it could have been a lot worse." _A lot worse._ "Look, you need to rest. I'll get the sleeping bags out, you'll lie down, get warm, and try to sleep."

"Well, okay," Rodney said grudgingly. "Can I have comfort sex later?"

"Sure. When we get home. Or someplace private that's not a hive ship."

"Okay."

"Rodney."

"What?"

"You need to let go of me first. And take your hand off my ass."

With a little more coaxing and reassurance, Rodney let go of him. John got the sleeping bags and a couple of the thermal foil blankets out of the pack, found a spot on the floor that didn't have anything disgusting on it, and made a pallet. Rodney was finally starting to wind down by that point, and collapsed onto the sleeping bags with only minor complaints about what this was likely to do to his back; he was snoring almost immediately.

John took off his gunbelt, propped the P-90 on the pack within easy reach and settled in next to him. He didn't think he was going to be able to sleep, no matter how dead he was. It was cold, the smell was god awful, and, basically, _hive ship._ But Rodney made a weird snuffling snort and wrapped an arm around his waist, their body heat quickly warmed the foil blankets, and within moments he was asleep.

  
***

  
John woke abruptly when his headset clicked on and Ronon's voice said, "Sheppard?"

"Yeah." He blinked at the dark curved ceiling, reaching for the P-90, remembering where he was. It would have been a lot more disturbing waking up in this place if Rodney hadn't been wrapped around him like a blanket and holding on for dear life, his head on John's chest, a hand knotted in his shirt and a knee between his legs. "This is Sheppard. Ronon? Where are you?"

"Outside the door." There was a hesitation. "Lorne said you were here."

"Yeah, hold on." John put the P-90 down and disentangled himself from Rodney, and tried to get up, only to discover that every muscle in his body had taken the opportunity to stiffen into immobility. He managed to get upright and limp to the door.

He hit the control, stepping back as the door slid open. Ronon was standing there, one of the _Daedalus_ supply packs slung over his shoulder. It was always hard to tell with Ronon, but his face was drawn and John knew he had to be exhausted. He looked past John, a flicker of worry in his eyes. "What's wrong with McKay?"

"He's okay, he's just freaking out." John rubbed his face, trying to wake up. "Where were you?"

"Searching the ship." Ronon looked away, his jaw set. "I know what the others said. But I had to make sure."

Make sure the Wraith were gone, dead or turned into harmless baffled elf-like humans who didn't understand their rescuers' horror. John just nodded. He looked at his watch. They had a few more hours before they reached Atlantis, and he didn't think they would get much downtime after they got there. "You need to get some rest."

Ronon shifted, suddenly doing that thing where he looked like a big uncertain kid. "Can I sleep in here with you?"

From the pallet, Rodney said blearily, "But no sex."

John stared up at the ceiling in despair. "Rodney."

Ronon eyed Rodney warily. "I didn't understand what you meant when you said 'freaking out' before."

"Just try to ignore him." John waved him in and shut the door behind him.

  
**end**


End file.
